Remember me? I’m that gift card some clueless Secret Santa gave you months ago, maybe years. You used me once, then forgot all about me. Oh, you might stumble on me now and then when you’re so bored you decide to clean out your wallet, and then you look at me and think, “Huh, I wonder what’s left on this?”
Forget it. You’ll never know. You won’t be anywhere near a Starbucks or a Walgreens at the time. You’re not going to stop what you’re doing to go fill up at Texaco. You’ll make a mental note, that’s it. You might say to yourself, “I should check the balance on a website. Is that even a thing?” You have no clue. But you won’t find out, for even if it is a thing, you know you’d be forced to register, and then you’d be bombarded by emails begging you to “Celebrate the Season of Pumpkin Spice” or “Save 20 percent on Jorts.”
No, you’ll just stare at me, ponder my mysteries, then back into the wallet I’ll go—not even a front flap, but tucked into some hidden sub-flap with the loyalty cards and the gym membership.